


see if we're in synergy

by jeannedarc



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cock Slapping, Established Relationship, Kink Discovery, M/M, Mild Painplay, Mild powerplay, NOT cock and ball torture, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, giggly mark lee is soooooo cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23746309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarc/pseuds/jeannedarc
Summary: It's not Jaehyun's fault that all he can think about is getting slapped in the face by his boyfriend's dick.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Mark Lee, side johnhyuck
Comments: 17
Kudos: 268





	see if we're in synergy

**Author's Note:**

> helloooooo ♥  
> wrote this over the course of the weekend because it's been haunting me for three weeks  
> plus it's a nice distraction from bigger projects :~)  
> thanks to rome for reading over it and making sure there are no enormously glaring errors ♥

As most things do, it starts with an argument. Not theirs, of course; theirs don’t start things so much as finishing them, the pair of them earth-shaking in a way neither of them means to be. As most things do, it starts with Mark gently avoiding Jaehyun’s eyes.

Actually, it starts with Donghyuck spread out over Johnny’s lap, with beer on everyone’s breath and pressed, sweating, into everyone’s hands, creaking and ancient leather couches the only thing cradling them as they drink themselves into oblivion on a Friday night after everyone’s done work for the evening. Donghyuck is talking about some gaming thing or another -- Jaehyun doesn’t pretend to know what any of it’s about -- and how apparently some prepubescent teen threatened to cockslap him. “Not teabag,” clarifies Donghyuck, as if it’s supposed to be some sort of comfort that he’s making the distinction, if the look on his face is any indication. “ _Cockslap_. Can you believe the nerve of these kids?”

Mark laughs, that shrill, high, unceasing noise, and Jaehyun leans into him, just a little, cheek tucked under his arm. “Yo, dude,” he says, and Jaehyun’s a world away, doesn’t focus on what his boyfriend is saying, “that sounds like something _you_ would’ve done, like, not too long ago.”

Exams are a couple weeks away. Seems like they always are, or like they don’t have a lot of time for get-togethers like these, especially when Johnny’s always working to find himself the perfect post-graduation job while working two customer service positions, and Donghyuck and Mark are swamped with way too many extracurriculars, and Jaehyun is saddled with uncertainty about so many things. 

(Not that he’s overwhelmed. He’s good at letting it out. Mark has bruises just under the hem of that ratty old t-shirt he’s wearing that will attest to Jaehyun’s skill at stress management. His occupation is something else entirely, and is definitely, most assuredly not based in the notion of getting slapped across the face with his boyfriend’s cock.)

It starts, as most things do, with an argument. “You can’t do it hard!” Donghyuck is insisting from the opposite end of the living room. “You’ll end up poking someone’s eye out!” He’s got that fierce determination in his eyes, the one he wears most often when he thinks he might not be right. His position has shifted, he straddling his boyfriend’s lap, and he’s got both hands splayed across Johnny’s cheeks, thumbs digging into either side of the hinge of his jaw.

They’ve seen one another like this before. After all, Johnny and Jaehyun have lived together longer than any other combination of them have known each other. It should probably be weirder than it is. 

Johnny, for his part in the falsehood of their disagreement, is wriggling beneath Donghyuck, crying out in something like pain. Fake. Super fake. Jaehyun doesn’t have to be in his own head to realise that. “You can’t do it soft, what are you talking about?”

Jaehyun, for what it’s worth, had missed the deterioration of the conversation, the part in which they’d devolved into the logistics of taking a cock across the face. He hadn’t thought much about it save the theoretical smear of precum streaked across one’s cheekbone, the stinging mark that would be left behind if one were to receive one of those smacks more than once in succession.

He sits up straight, tips his head, the movement so sudden that Mark stops laughing, shifts his own posture to one that speaks of concern. His fingers tangle in the hem of Jaehyun’s polyester work uniform, trying to tug him back, to bring them close together again. For not being a fan of touch, Mark certainly likes the clingy shit when he’s got a few beers in him. 

In any case Jaehyun ignores the silent plea for skinship, just for a second, just until his curiosity is slaked, if not his sudden Kinsey-scale-cracking desire. “Why can’t you do it soft?” he asks, in that too-serious voice of his, the one that makes Donghyuck stop trying to wrestle Johnny into submission (like Johnny isn’t submissive in the first place) and turn to look Jaehyun directly in his eyes.

“Because it’d be like a fish,” Johnny explains, tenderly rubbing at his jawline, careful around the spots where Donghyuck’s fingers are sure to have left bruises for the following day to find. “Do you want to get slapped in the face with a fish?”

And no, the thought of a fish doesn’t sound appealing in the least. But when he finally obliges Mark’s need to be cuddled until he’s not drunk anymore, the thought of being slapped is all he has in the chamber.

He’s got some things to sort out, he supposes, tucking himself under Mark’s arm again, content to feel small in that embrace, still sipping at a drink he doesn’t really like if it means getting to spend time with two of his favourite people.

///

Desire is a funny thing, Jaehyun realises over the next couple days. It consumes, but not in the soul-wrenching way that poets often catalogue in anthologies that only particular sorts of people read. It devours, but not to the point that the one experiencing it might crumble in upon themselves. He coughs up no flowers, cries no silver tears.

No, he just… idly thinks.

For some, that’s more dangerous than poetic desire. Jaehyun is one of those ‘some’.

His day job -- a restaurant gig that’s far enough from campus that he doesn’t have to worry about his classmates’ opinions on what he does in time not clocked in library hours or tutoring sessions -- keeps him occupied enough that he might not normally have to worry about it. The night he spends with his boyfriend, his best friend, and his best friend’s boyfriend is a rare occurrence; usually what free time he has is spent Netflix and chilling on Mark Lee’s couch.

It’s a happy life. He’d be downright silly to deny his own satisfaction with the course of things and how they’ve happened to him over the past few months. It’s just not… _busy_ enough for him to keep out the thoughts of staring up at Mark with a slightly-open mouth, of a kiss-bitten bottom lip caught between front teeth, of Mark’s hand wrapped around the base of his dick as he gears up to give Jaehyun the slappening of a lifetime.

He can’t even tell, as he’s lying in Mark’s bed face-up and spread out, marked up and naked and slick with sweat he hasn’t bothered to wash off, whether or not it’s a serious desire. Maybe the distinction isn’t important? Though their sex life is hardly adventurous this far into their relationship -- routine is comforting when so much is uncertain, though he’s loath to admit it -- it couldn’t hurt to add a little...well, _spice_.

This is what keeps his head busy while Mark’s out of the room. He’s had Mark buried inside him more times than he can count since they started fucking around, then dating. If he closes his eyes he can imagine the shape of that cock as it drags across his face.

Mark drags ass out of the shower, looking just as worn-out as Jaehyun feels after a good, long roll in the hay. His hair is still damp. His mouth is still a little red. His skin is glowing with cleanliness. “You didn’t come in with me,” he says quietly as he towels beads of water from his hair, albeit messily. “I thought you were going to.”

“I was,” Jaehyun clarifies, then clears his throat. “I was going to.” But he’s not in his own head, he’s somewhere else, listening to himself speak rather than speaking on his own. To center himself he tips back his head, staring out at the thin sliver of moon hanging over campus. “I just got distracted.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Mark flops down beside him, and their elbows brush in a way that almost reads electric. “I’m distracted more and more lately.”

“Yeah?” Jaehyun rights himself so that he’s no longer almost falling heels over head off the mattress. “What’s got you distracted?” He purses his lips seriously, always ready to listen if Mark is the one that needs the ear. 

“Just, you know, life,” Mark says with a shrug. “Work. School. Missing people.” He shifts just so, propping up on an elbow with his palm cupped around his pretty cheek. The way he looks at Jaehyun, like he’s something worthy of beholding, makes Jaehyun feel so small, so safe. “What about you?”

God, but does his own discontent sound small in comparison. He doesn’t know that he can say _I’ve been thinking of you cockslapping me until I cry a little_ without dissolving into giggles, without sounding immensely disrespectful, without wanting to shrink into a hole and never come out right-sized again. “Just, you know.” He shrugs back, discomfort with his own wants and needs taking over and speaking for him. “Life things.” 

Mark pauses a moment, then leans down and dusts his lips to Jaehyun’s, a gentle gesture indicative of habit, of the kisses they’ve shared a hundred thousand times by now.

“You know you can tell me,” Mark says, which is so unlike him that Jaehyun wants to laugh, or cry, or banish the thought that’s been plaguing him the last few days. “If you really want. If you need to. I know I’m not the best listener, but--”

“I know, babe,” Jaehyun says, sighing and flopping down upon the mattress. He rests his cheek against Mark’s bicep. It’s a comfortable pillow. “Maybe in a little bit. Get some sleep, yeah? You have work early tomorrow.”

“You made the calendar,” says Mark as he cards fingers through Jaehyun’s hair. 

“Yeah, it’s important to me.” _You’re important to me,_ he doesn’t say as he closes his eyes, breathes in the clean scent of his boyfriend. “S’posted on the fridge. So you don’t have to miss me so much.”

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll talk about what’s been on his mind.

///

When he wakes up a few days later, alone and in his bedroom, staring up at the bare walls, the thought, the phantom sensation his dream had left him with, is so present, so embedded into the soft top layer of his skin, that Jaehyun doesn’t know he’ll get rid of it by sheer force of will. He perks an ear to the wall; his roommate is showering. He doesn’t know which one. That sort of takes the easier, softer way out of the equation -- he’s always been more inclined toward the frigid spray than the difficult act of getting off with his roomies in the house, no matter the age. A habit left over from spending time living with his parents and being a hormonal teenage boy, he figures.

Pathetically, he looks down at the tent made in his blanket. He scissors his legs, stretches his arms, tightens his abs, but all that does is make it harder for him to focus on anything but the ungentle tautness nestled heavy between his thighs. 

“Please,” he asks, voice still rumbly with sleep, eyes barely open.

His dick, an unmerciful master, does not comply. He whines, even more sadly than the situationsitaution calls for.

“Fuck it,” he mutters under his breath. He rustles one-handed through his nightstand, leaves the drawer hanging open in his haste to slick his palm with the lube he pulls out. If someone comes in here, compromises him, they’re going to get a nice eyeful of his various toys. He doesn’t think he cares, not when it’s seven-thirty in the morning and he has class in a couple hours.

When he gets his greased palm wrapped around his cock, not even bothering to shuck off his boxers more than halfway down his hips, it’s a relief the likes of which he hadn’t anticipated, even in his dreams, which are still working their way up his spine and into the stem of his brain where they’ll settle, haunt him.

He can see Mark’s face, when he closes his eyes. The view is, for lack of a better term, _magnificent_.

More to the point he can see Mark’s hand wrapped around the base of his cock. His expression is something impassive, his mouth set into a wan line. “Ready, baby?” he’d ask. Jaehyun’s hand slowly picks up its pace around his length. His swollen dick responds in turn, twitching against his fingertips. “You really want this?”

And Dream Jaehyun had been so much bolder than the real thing, grinning up at Mark, closing his eyes. “Whenever you are,” he’d said. “Make it hurt.”

The impact -- well, dreams aren’t designed to feel pain, but he’d felt it nonetheless, the sharp slap of Mark’s length against the apple of his cheek. 

Jaehyun, in real time, twists his wrist on the upstroke like he likes it, and takes a deep, shuddering breath. He can still feel the phantom sensation of slick streaked across his cheek, and the remnant memory of Mark staring down at him listlessly as he slaps him again is burned into his consciousness, brought forth by a desire he’d been trying so hard to bury.

This, he decides as he cums, is a problem.

Now he’s got to wash his _fucking_ sheets, he realises with a groan. And have a _fucking_ conversation with Mark! Who probably doesn’t want to do this thing that Jaehyun’s entire body, brain, heart, soul have decided they want. Who probably will dump him and call him a freak.

Jaehyun’s been smeared worse across campus, of course. But somehow the idea of Mark doing it makes him ache in a way that doesn’t really have a name.

When the tingling in his trunk finally cedes he gathers himself, drags his bedding off the mattress, all the while plotting what this conversation will sound like. If he can even bring himself to say it in the first place.

///

“How’d you ask Donghyuck to top you?”

Johnny nearly spits out his coffee. He actively chokes for a long moment before reaching his freakishly gangly arm over his own shoulder, patting himself between the shoulderblades until his windpipe decides to cooperate and grant him back his life. “That’s really, uh, forward of you,” he says when he can at last speak again. He glances around their usual coffee date spot, clearly looking for an escape from the conversation.

Jaehyun, a good best friend, sips at his macchiato contentedly and does not allow this to happen. “I just want to know for my own sake, I’m not going to embarrass you about it or anything.” And though it hurts what little pride he has left when it comes to Johnny -- they’ve seen each other in all kinds of states, after all; best friendship is like that from time to time -- Jaehyun puts on his best pleading face, bottom lip sticking out just a bit. “I need help, hyung. Please help me?”

It’s with a curious look that Johnny leans forward on his elbows, fingers interlaced where they hold up his chin. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because, uh,” and here Jaehyun colours up to the tips of his ears. Not shame, of course. He couldn’t be ashamed of the things that are turning him on lately even if he tried. He has. His mistake. He leans across the tiny table between them, espresso and caramel on his breath when he whispers into Johnny’s ear what it is he’s thinking about.

Johnny, for the record, looks like his world has been changed, with how wide his eyes are, how pale his cheeks have gone. “Really?” he asks, visibly fighting to keep the scandal from his voice. “Uh. I really just. Asked. Before we got in there, uh, down to business, you know?”

That’s unhelpful. Jaehyun doesn’t say as much, though it occurs to him. “Yeah, but… what if he’s too busy? Or tired? Or doesn’t want to?”

“He’ll want to,” Johnny says with a confidence he probably doesn’t deserve. He leans back in the misshapen café chair that barely manages to hold him up. “He wants you. He’s wanted you forever!” He glances around, then asks in a low voice, “This isn't your first time, right? With him?”

Jaehyun’s entire face wrinkles up and he kicks Johnny gently under the table. “No. You think I’m trying to scare him off? No, we’ve. We’ve fucked. A lot.” The flush sweeping down the sides of his neck only deepens, tingling all the way beneath the neckline of his t-shirt. “A _lot_.” His mind occupies itself with Mark’s insatiable libido, the way that, in the early days of their relationship, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. The fact that his eyes still hadn’t stopped sparkling despite them having so little time for one another, that he hadn’t ceased those same compliments that would’ve gotten Jaehyun out of his study break mindset and into a more _interesting_ one, means something, right?

He almost misses that, right now.

“I should go talk to him right now,” Jaehyun says, with a finality that catches him off guard. “Right now, right?”

“I mean, yeah, if he’s not busy,” Johnny agrees. He already knows that Jaehyun has to be talked into not going to bother him at work, judging by the set of Johnny’s brow, all knotted together in worry. Best friend privilege. “Is he busy right now?”

Jaehyun, though, doesn’t hear this because he has already abandoned his coffee and marched straight out of the café like a man on a mission.

///

Jaehyun is waiting for Mark when he gets home from his shift at the library, splayed out over the couch, its aging fabric threatening to crack beneath him as he shifts restlessly while he waits. He’s freshly showered, and his hair is still a little damp, and he hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt, instead shimmying into sweatpants and leaving his top half bare.

Mark lingers in the doorway, gaze sweeping over the sight of Jaehyun spread out on his couch, one arm stretched out over the back, the other occupied dicking around on his phone. It’s not like this is an abnormal sight -- Jaehyun doesn’t like wearing clothes if he doesn’t have to, something to which Mark should have had ample time to become accustomed -- but the way his mouth hangs open has Jaehyun heating up all over again. “Hey,” Mark says, his voice cracking a little, he clearly trying to keep it casual when he drags his hand through his hair, swallows so thickly the sound is audible in the mostly-silent apartment. “You, uh, you look really good.”

“Thanks.” Jaehyun shrugs off the compliment the same way he shrugs off water from his back after his showers, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it all the way down to the tips of his toes. “Come sit with me? I wanna talk to you about something.”

Visibly concerned, Mark kicks out of his sneakers, kicking them against the wall, and does what’s asked of him. He ends up parking very close to Jaehyun on the couch. His fingers are a little twitchy. It’s obvious he wants to get his hands on what’s his. For what it’s worth, Jaehyun has every intention on giving it to him -- after an important conversation, one he’s been working up the courage to have all day, since he and Johnny had parted this morning.

“So, um,” and Mark fidgets here, staring down at his hands like he’s waiting for something bad to happen. “Are we cool?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun agrees in a sigh that’s at least half laugh. “We’re okay. I wouldn’t break up with you half-naked.” His mouth quirks crookedly. He restrains a laugh, but only just.

All at once the tension drains from Mark’s shoulders and he tips his head back and laughs, eyes slipping closed. “I mean, breakup sex is a thing,” he points out, shoving Jaehyun’s shoulder when he tries to scoot in close, not so much combative as embarrassed, though there’s definitely measures of both. “Maybe that's what you wanted! Yo, I don’t know, dude.”

“No, it’s not like that.” Jaehyun keeps the mirth from his eyes as best he can, inching closer, phone now abandoned on the end table and making a ton of noises. Funny -- he didn’t remember opening a game, but he thinks he might have died. He hooks his chin over Mark’s still-shaking shoulder, ignorant of whatever pull technology is meant to have over him. “I’ve just been thinking about something.”

“What kind of something?” Mark pauses, then asks, “Is this the thing that’s been bothering you?”

Mark, for the record, is more intuitive than anyone gives him credit for. Jaehyun can’t help but like this about him. “Yeah, sorta?” He shrugs. “You remember when we hung out with Johnny and Hyuck last week? And they were talking about, uh,” he trails off here, losing that certainty he’d worked so hard to obtain. 

“They were talking about cockslapping,” Mark says, finishing the thoughts Jaehyun now isn’t sure he has the courage to get out. “And you got really small and hid in my shirt. Yeah. Is that what’s been bothering you?”

“Yeah, sorta,” Jaehyun says again. He ducks his face in the crook of Mark’s neck, breathing in the scent of him, of old books and markers that has embedded itself under his skin. “Just. It’s really got me thinking.”

“You wanna…” Mark struggles for the words, because he’s not super great at them to begin with. “You wanna slap me?”

“No! No.” It comes out in a rush of exhilaration, and Jaehyun has to bite his lip to keep from babbling off more than he needs to. “I just, you know. I wanted to know if you’d be interested in doing it to me.”

The silence hangs heavy between them. Mark’s gone completely still, stiff, tension the only thing that keeps him upright.

“You want that?” he asks the space between them, eyes focused on a spot on the coffee table. “I mean. Really?” His voice nearly jumps an octave, something he only does when he’s feeling shy. Like he has control of it, almost.

“If you want to. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course.”

“How long has it been? A week?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve been letting it distract you,” Mark says slowly, turning so that they’re nose-to-nose, the point of Jaehyun’s chiseled chin digging into the spot where Mark’s neck meets his shoulder, “for a whole week, instead of asking me for what you wanted?”

Jaehyun flushes. That’s his habit lately, it seems. He wishes he were a little more shameless, a little more like that bold twinkle that catches the light in Mark’s eyes just so, ignites a fire in him that he can’t ignore. “You were busy.”

And Mark, blessing that he is, takes Jaehyun’s middle in his arms, draws him in closer, swivelling himself so that he can bracket Jaehyun’s legs with his own. “You can always ask me for something you want, you know,” he says in this low, low voice that sets Jaehyun to shuddering.

When their lips meet it’s in the sort of capital-K Kiss that leaves Jaehyun’s toes curling and the hair at his nape standing on end and the fire in his belly that’s been forced to remain at burning embers to light up, bright and brilliant, as he sighs into Mark’s mouth. “I did,” he points out between kisses. “I did ask.”

Mark, though -- he’s never been much for talking when they’re getting down to the delightful business of getting each other naked, and Jaehyun really thinks he might be sent from heaven, or outer space, or somewhere else. His hands rake gentle, pinkish lines down the column of Jaehyun’s spine. He roams like this as their tongues make heated passes at one another, Mark the first to act, swiping into Jaehyun’s mouth and slicking the corners of their mouths with spit.

His fingers find the waistband of Jaehyun’s sweats, travel lower, grabbing at what ass he can when Jaehyun’s sitting like this. Always accommodating, Jaehyun climbs into Mark’s lap, thighs spread when he wraps himself around his boyfriend like he’s been waiting to get felt up.

Well. Maybe he has. Maybe every cell in his body has been screaming for Mark’s practised hands on him for longer than he’d care to admit. 

“Got off without you,” Jaehyun teases between kisses, between tiny whimpers that rest permanently in the back of his mouth, waiting for Mark to pry them from him with every touch.

“Yeah?” Mark asks, so soft it’s more a breath than any words. He gives Jaehyun’s pert little ass a squeeze, all his fingers digging into taut flesh. His mouth leaves Jaehyun’s for a moment, distracted with smearing their shared saliva down the line of his jaw, the column of his neck, the place where his pulse flutters beneath his skin. “Was it good?”

“Not as good as you,” says Jaehyun, barely managing to stammer it out between little breathy noises. “Never as good as you.”

“Were you thinking about what we’re about to do?” Mark, shameless as fuck, bites into Jaehyun’s pulse, sucks hard on the skin beneath his mouth. 

“A lot,” Jaehyun admits, sheepish as ever, wilting quickly beneath the attentions being lavished onto him. He tips his head to one side, gives Mark more neck to work with.

It goes on like this for awhile, Jaehyun’s breath getting harder to find as he gasps out Mark’s name, winds fingers into his slightly-wavy hair, giving him little tugs this way and that. When he bruises Jaehyun’s clavicle it’s almost more than he can bear. When he bites into the soft shell of Jaehyun’s ear it’s too much, and he jerks away to take Mark’s face into his hands, kiss him like their lives depend on it.

“Bedroom?” he asks, voice gravelly with desire.

“Yeah,” Mark agrees, watching with an amused little smile as Jaehyun scrambles out of his lap, nearly falling onto the floor beneath them in his haste. 

They laugh, and kiss, their foreheads resting together. When Jaehyun does make it safely off the aging couch it’s with their hands intertwined, with him walking backward toward his bedroom, watching the apartment’s front door out of habit more than any idea that they might be intruded upon. Thank God his roommate took the late shift tonight. Thank God they’re going to be alone for all this. 

They’re still chuckling under their collective breath when Mark kicks the door shut behind him. Jaehyun takes relish in the way he gets to peel away Mark’s jacket, his t-shirt, the little necklace he’d been wearing for work. “Pretty,” he comments when he delicately unwinds the chain from around Mark’s throat. “You look good in jewelry, you know.”

Mark makes a soft noise of understanding, steps into the short gap between the pair of them and fits his hands at either side of Jaehyun’s neck. Then they’re kissing again, heated but unhurried. That fire in Jaehyun’s belly simmers down, just a touch, just enough that this isn’t unbearable and that he’s not racing to the finish line. 

Still, it’s weird to kiss standing, and weirder still that they have to stay this way. He slips out of Mark’s grasp and sinks to his knees, peering up at Mark’s face, half-expecting to see that same look on his face from the dream that’s been haunting him. 

No, the reality is better. Mark is looking down at Jaehyun like that’s his entire world. Perhaps he is. His fingers tiptoe intrepid lines down the line of Jaehyun’s jaw, tipping his head up so that their gazes might meet, that Jaehyun might see in Mark’s ever-open expression just how much he wants to do this. 

Jaehyun’s fingers work deftly at the simple latch in Mark’s belt. It’s over quicker than the trembling of his hands would account for. Then he’s shimmying Mark’s jeans down over his thighs, watching the subtle change in his stare: from something adoring to something almost hungry.

He leans forward, mouths over the subtle bulge in Mark’s underwear, the thin layer of cotton just enough barrier between them to make it _exciting_ rather than burdensome. His wet mouth soaks through the fabric as he fits his lips around the crown of Mark’s cock. Mark’s hand finds the back of Jaehyun’s head, holds him in place. “Babe, please,” he grits out between clenched teeth. “You want it hard?”

“Want you hard,” Jaehyun says, neverminding the implications of what it’d be like to take the full force of Mark’s erection across his cheekbone. “Want you.” He drags the very point of his tongue along the length of Mark’s dick through the underwear at the same time he hooks fingers into the elastic band around his waist. They end up in a pool at Mark’s feet, trapping him in place lest he trip over his own ankles stepping out of those boxer briefs. “Okay?” he asks, breath ghosting over Mark’s length in that way he knows his boyfriend likes.

“Yeah,” Mark agrees in a grunt, his free hand reaching down to tenderly cradle Jaehyun’s jaw. “Yeah, whatever you want, hyung.” 

Jaehyun, a practised hand at the sport, takes most of Mark down in one go, tongue pressing into the underside of his dick. That hand at the back of his head presses in gently, Mark all too conscious of choking Jaehyun too early in their time together. He likes to save it for last. Jaehyun learned that their second time together, tear tracks streaking down a made-up face that Mark had brazenly photographed at the end of the night. 

He thinks about that a lot. The fact that he’s thinking about it right now as he sucks Mark down like he’s a dying man on his last meal probably speaks to that.

He breathes through his nose and, when the tip of Mark’s dick hits the back of his throat, Jaehyun swallows. He’s never thought much about what a skill it is, to be able to give head like this, but when he looks up at Mark’s face, the way his face pinches together in pleasure, the way he drags his tongue over his lips and exhales Jaehyun’s name, almost dreamily. Jaehyun can feel the swelling of Mark’s cock against the flat of his tongue, and makes a soft noise of his own at the sensation, the way his jaw starts to ache too quickly, how his cheeks stretch to make room for Mark filling his mouth.

“Baby, baby,” and Mark can barely stutter it out, the hand at the back of Jaehyun’s head tugging at his hair. “Baby, I need you to--”

Jaehyun pops off Mark’s dick with a lewd pop, looks up at him, lips tingling, tongue tasting of salt and sweat. “You ready?” he asks.

Mark nods almost grimly, determination setting in. He takes the base of his dick in his hand and with the other holds Jaehyun’s jaw in place. 

It almost looks like he’s going to do it. But then he breaks out into laughter. “Sorry,” he giggles, breathless, “sorry, just. Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” and Jaehyun comforts Mark’s anxiety by dotting kisses to the place where Mark’s thigh meets his hip, careful of the little freckle there, the one that Jaehyun loves to dote on when they’re not in the middle of trying something new. He does that a couple times, then leans back, going completely still. Obedient. _Good_. His mouth hangs open, and his eyes close, and he’s fucking _hard_ with anticipation, with the thought that Mark is going to honour him.

“Okay, um.” Mark pauses, and there’s an audible shift of weight. The crown of his cock, still sticky with spit and the barest hint of precum, collides wetly with the apple of Jaehyun’s cheek. The pleasure it sends trilling through Jaehyun’s entire frame, his skeleton and heart and muscles, is almost too much for him to bear, and this wasn’t even Mark trying.

It’s weak, but it’s a start. A good one if the kittenish noise that spills out of Jaehyun’s mouth unbidden is any indication. He’s impressed, but it isn’t enough.

With all the patience a man can hold in his body, Jaehyun looks slowly up into Mark’s eyes, lashes fluttering, a little pout on his mouth. “Do it again, please,” he asks in his politest tone, the words coming out a little stilted with how difficult it is to maintain restraint.

Mark is too happy to oblige, and he’s harder about it now, more forceful. Jaehyun’s own cock twitches at the idea that flashes across his mind, that he’ll have the outline of Mark’s dick in red across his own cheek. 

When Mark slaps him a third time, Jaehyun springs into action. He takes Mark’s dick back into his mouth, the gentle sting of his skin a welcome accompaniment to the stretch, the _fullness_ he experiences when his jaw opens to take Mark in again. He can feel the wetness striped across his face and drying into something flaky and good, a badge of honour as he swallows Mark down, voracious as ever when it comes to his boyfriend’s dick.

Mark’s knees start to buckle when Jaehyun’s tongue laves at the spot he favours, just beneath the head of his cock. “Hyung, I’m going to--” Mark barely manages to form words at this point, breathless from the challenge, from how good Jaehyun must be making him feel. Positive reinforcement is like that. “I’m going to fall, please don’t let me fall--”

Jaehyun pops off again, peers up at Mark with narrowed eyes. “Wanna move?” he asks.

In answer, Mark slaps him again, the head of his dick catching at the corner of Jaehyun’s mouth. Call and response is a beautiful thing, Jaehyun decides as he feels a pointed swelling between his parted thighs, so strong it nearly makes him fall over himself. Still, he gives Mark a minute to make up his mind, sure that by now his brain is a scrambled egg and he’s having trouble making little decisions. After all, it’s always like this.

Mark does end up moving to the bed, sitting at the edge. Jaehyun makes his way closer on hands and knees, and he would be remiss if he didn’t fully appreciate the image of his boyfriend leaning back on one spread palm, jacking himself slowly, carefully, with the other. The slide is a slick one; he presses his shaking thumb into his slit and drags it down the underside of his cock. His head rests on his shoulder, his eyes are half-closed, and his tongue is poking out of the corner of his mouth like it does when he’s focused.

God, he’s so cute, Jaehyun could just eat him up. Maybe he will, when all this is over, when the urgent need to suck out Mark’s soul through his dick has finally been met. 

“Don’t finish,” Jaehyun practically commands, perched on his haunches, sitting almost prayerly as he rests his hands on Mark’s knees, pushes them further apart that he might settle between them. “Want you to cum in my mouth.” He looks up into Mark’s face with such earnest that he earns the reward he gets, another slap, this one directly across the mouth. The leaking tip of Mark’s cock leaves a trail along his lips; he licks it away, then licks at the head like he would an ice cream cone. 

Both Mark’s hands fist in Jaehyun’s hair now, the dark strands pulled taut in his fingers, forcing Jaehyun to moan around the crown of Mark’s dick. “Hyung, I--”

Jaehyun’s eyes flicker upwards, just for a moment, a silent go-ahead. His hand slips along the soft skin of Mark’s inner thigh, squeezing in encouragement. _Finish whenever you want,_ it says. _I’m yours._

When Mark does cum a couple minutes later, hot cum spilling down Jaehyun’s throat and flooding his tongue with salt and sweat, Jaehyun is so painfully hard that he doesn’t even get to enjoy the way Mark’s usual uncontrollable leg-thrashing nearly knocks him on his ass. He holds his position until Mark is finished, letting him go soft against his swollen lower lip. Hot, he decides, resting his jaw when he pulls away a final time. He trails kisses all the way from Mark’s groin, careful of the soft nest of hair there, all the way to the inside of his knee, all affection in their final moments.

At last he crawls up the bed, arms wrapped around Mark’s neck, drawing them close. “Wanna kiss?” Jaehyun asks lazily, sated in his desire even if his erection speaks to the contrary. 

Mark shakes his head, eyes heavy-lidded and face burning with some unnamed emotion that Jaehyun knows better than to decide for him. “Maybe later,” he says, burying his face in Jaehyun’s chest. The warmth of his cheeks is a comfort upon Jaehyun’s bare clavicle. He kisses Mark’s crown.

It’s a ploy. Of course it is. Mark’s wandering hand, bored as the rest of him is with the prospect of staying still, twitches from Jaehyun’s waist, to his hip, to the outside of his thigh, eventually settling on the throbbing tension between his legs. “You liked that?” he asks, still rough and distant in the afterglow.

“What gave me away?” asks Jaehyun, smirking in spite of himself. 

Mark’s grasp on Jaehyun’s dick tightens, incremental, and Jaehyun doesn’t manage to bite back the moan that comes out of him. His hips cant toward Mark’s fingers without his consent, and it’s pretty much clockwork by that point, the two of them having made a competitive study of one another’s bodies upon first meeting. He’s so hard that a stiff breeze could knock him over, after all; the fact that Mark is thinking of him without him having to ask, is jerking him off through his sweats like a champion, is more than enough to finish him. 

He comes all over the inside of his pants. It’s sticky and gross immediately and he feels like he needs another shower, once he shakes out the last of his orgasm, his teeth sunk into the line of Mark’s shoulder. He relaxes, spent and noodle-like, against the mattress, breathes in deeply, and feels the gunkening of his cum drying in his pubes and against the line of his hipbone. Gross. His nose wrinkles in distaste.

The only thing that keeps him from actively protesting this disgusting turn of events is the fact that Mark kisses him, tender, careful, the polar opposite of the still-humming imprint upon his cheek. He does cry out his displeasure when Mark rolls away, comes back with a washcloth, a spare pair of sweats that Jaehyun had long since left at his place in case of something like this. He takes care of Jaehyun just as kindly as he had their first time together, wiping him clean, helping into clean clothes. His fingers are still a little sticky. 

Jaehyun thinks he likes that and wonders if maybe Mark Lee was created to awaken things within him that he didn’t know were there.

Only when they’re back in bed, side-by-side, does Jaehyun wrap his arms around Mark, pull him into an embrace. “Thanks for that,” he says in a stage-whisper. 

“For the slap, or…” Mark’s face says he knows the answer. 

“All of it.” _Indulging me,_ he doesn’t say.

“Hey.” Mark’s hand rests on Jaehyun’s waist, thumbing over the bottom rung of his ribcage. “I’d do it again if you really wanted. If you feel like you wanna try something new…” 

“You, too, you know,” Jaehyun points out, wondering why this is so… awkward, maybe? Has he made a mistake of some kind? “I’m down for whatever, as long as it’s you.”

Exams are soon. Spring break shortly after that. They’ll have plenty of time to try out new things.

“I might have a few ideas,” Mark says with a grin. “Go sleep, yeah?” He nudges Jaehyun’s shoulder with the heel of his palm. “You got work tomorrow.”

“The calendar,” Jaehyun sighs happily, rolling around so that Mark can spoon him. For comfort, of course. 

“The calendar,” Mark mumbles in agreement, nosing at the spot beneath Jaehyun’s ear.

And it’s with an empty head and a full heart that Jaehyun lets sleep take him, the only thoughts lorded over him those of what Mark might bring to the table. (So to speak. Unless it isn’t. The dining room table would be a good place to fuck.)

**Author's Note:**

> as always:  
> [twitter](http://twitter.com/appiarian)


End file.
